


heart of a chief, soul of a dragon

by jaystrifes



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Discovering new dragon species, Exploring night fury origins, Gen, Hiccup needs to run away from his problems, Takes place immediately after HTTYD 2, Toothless helps
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-10-26
Packaged: 2019-06-15 03:07:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15403599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaystrifes/pseuds/jaystrifes
Summary: Drago Bludvist is defeated. Life goes on for seemingly everyone except Hiccup, who finds himself unable to move forward immediately as Berk's new chief.Or: Hiccup gets a chance to mourn his father.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> On rewatching HTTYD 2, it struck me how little time there is between Stoick's death and Hiccup's official naming as chief. It seemed so unfair that he hardly got a chance to adjust to the idea that his father was really gone -- the funeral is one thing, but I suspect it still didn't feel real at that point.
> 
> So, this is about Hiccup (and Toothless) coming to terms with loss, and exploring a little beyond the Archipelago to get some much-needed R&R.

The first order of business after Drago and his Bewilderbeast flee Berk is to thaw out the island. Even with the firepower of as many dragons as they have, it’s going to take some time. They start first by clearing doorways so people can get back into their houses, and then the dragon stables.

Hiccup throws everything he has into the work. A chief leads by example, after all. The reality of that still hasn’t quite hit him, but he knows it will. For now, he keeps himself busy, directing and organizing and hacking at the ice alongside the other Vikings to the best of his ability. All the dragons follow Toothless’s commands even more readily than they follow their riders’, so he and Hiccup work in tandem, the way they always have.

By the end of the day, they’ve made Berk mostly livable again, and most go to their beds and sleep soundly knowing their dragons are safe. Their village is in better shape than it was before, but Hiccup isn’t ready to quit yet. He posts a few sentries across the island, just in case Drago tries to make a return in the night, and then wanders around on his own for a bit, leaving Toothless stationed behind at the forge, where Gobber is still working. Hiccup tries to plan the next day’s schedule, the best way to get things back to normal as soon as possible. As normal as they can be.

It’s his job now, to be as wise and capable a leader as his father was. To fill his father’s vast, empty shoes. It all feels so overwhelming for a moment that he stops walking and just stares forward, his eyes unfocused.

He’s lost in thought when a hand touches his arm, and Astrid shakes him gently until he looks at her. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he says back quietly, and swallows hard, trying to make his voice a little less weak. “You, uh, calling it a night?”

“Unless you need me for anything. Do you?”

“Nah, it’s okay, you — you should go get some rest. I’ll be all right.”

Astrid twines her fingers with his and leans forward to look up at his downcast face. “Are you sure?” When he doesn’t answer right away, she adds, “I’d be happy to stay up with you.”

Hiccup shakes his head. “I might just need to be alone for a little while, if that’s okay.”

She nods and squeezes his hand. “Just don’t be alone alone, alright? You have Toothless.” With a smile, she plants a kiss on his cheek. “I’m going to go say goodnight to Stormfly, then I’m hitting the hay. And you should get some sleep too — you’ve barely had any in two days.”

“Right.” Hiccup manages a smile for her sake and watches her go. A thought flashes through his mind, a crazy one, the kind he knows he shouldn’t act on, but he calls out anyways, “Wait, Astrid. If I, go somewhere tonight...will you make sure everything gets taken care of tomorrow? With the village, and, the things people need from me?”

“I think I can handle that.” She tilts her head, holds his gaze firmly. “Just promise me you’ll come back.”

“I promise. And, I doubt I’ll go anywhere, I just meant, just in case.”

“Yeah, I understand, Hiccup. But if you do, then be safe.”

Hiccup breathes, letting out some of the tension and anxiety he didn’t realize he’d been holding in his chest. Astrid seems to know why he needs this, even without explanation, which is good, because he isn’t sure how he’d put it into words right now. He doesn’t want to break down in front of her, no matter how grateful he is for her support.

Once she’s gone on her way, Hiccup heads for the forge. Toothless comes out to meet him, chuffing happily and butting his head against Hiccup’s hand. Hiccup scratches behind his ear briefly, and Toothless follows him inside, where Gobber is hammering out a red-hot piece of metal.

“What d’ya need, Chief?” Gobber yells over the strikes of the tool attached where his hand should be.

Hiccup flinches, not from the noise or the sparks. “You don’t need to call me that, you know, I’d, prefer it if you didn’t.”

Gobber stops hammering and lifts up the half-mask he wears to protect his eyes. Hiccup’s heart thuds in time with the slow, ringing blows that fell on the metal before, and in the silence, he wishes he hadn’t said anything. Gobber’s eyes are red and puffy, and his usual chipper expression is absent. Hiccup knows exactly why.

He’s the person to talk to, the one who will miss Stoick the most besides his wife and son, but the thought of a conversation about it makes Hiccup want to curl up and hide. He can’t bear to look the beast in the face, though the shadow of it looms over him. Already today he’s dodged the subject with Valka (Valka still, because it’s too strange to think of her as _Mom_ yet) when she asked him if he wanted to talk about it.

“Hiccup.” Gobber doesn’t say anything more than that for a while, just untwists his hammer prosthetic and selects his old hook to attach instead. He pulls out his workbench, sits on the end close to the lit forge, and pats the space next to him.

Hiccup’s throat closes up. He knows he’s not going to be able to handle this right now. “I -- I just stopped in to see if there was any work you needed help with. I’m, uh, not ready to turn in for the night.”

Toothless must detect something in Hiccup’s voice, because he makes himself a bracing presence at Hiccup’s side. Hiccup lays his palm flat on the smooth scales of Toothless’s forehead and thumbs over the small ridged bumps down the center, glancing in Gobber’s direction every now and then.

Eventually, Gobber says, “You can help me make a leather wrapping for the hilt o’ this axe. Surely you remember how to do tha’. It’ll be jus’ like old times, eh?” He chuckles, and though it doesn’t sound completely genuine, it makes the smoky air feel less heavy. “’Cept now the dragons are inside the forge, not out.”

Hiccup finds the spot under Toothless’s jaw that makes him roll over onto his back, one leg cycling in the air, before he moves to work opposite Gobber. Gobber himself stays where he is, leaning back against his table with his eyes closed now. Hiccup realizes it’s inevitable, that he’ll get some sort of advice before he leaves, but he’s trying not to panic. Maybe Gobber needs this more than he does, and it is a chief’s job to put the needs of his people first, isn’t it?

He gets through most of the cutting and sewing of the leather binding before Gobber finally does speak up. “I know it’s not easy. Might not be for a long time. Your dad, when he became chief -- well, y’know, tha’ wasn’t an easy process either, but you saw how well ’e turned out. And ’e had confidence tha’ you’d be able t’do a fine job just like ’e did.”

The knife wavers in Hiccup’s grasp, and he’s too careless as he finishes sawing through the last strap of leather he needs. He almost doesn’t feel the sting, only knows he’s bleeding when he sees the red well up in the shallow slice along the index finger of the hand that was holding the leather in place. Toothless’s nostrils flare at the scent of it and he’s beside Hiccup again in a flash, knocking over a bucket of nails along the way.

“Ah, blast it, you dragon,” Gobber says, with a little more anger than Hiccup expects.

Toothless looks at him, eyes wide and innocent, then back to Hiccup, nosing at his small cut. He was just worried, and Gobber must know that, but maybe it’s not about the nails. Still, Hiccup gets down to collect all the loose ones and right the bucket before Gobber can try to do it himself, murmuring apologies on Toothless’s behalf. He remembers his own fury, when he told Toothless to get away, even though it wasn’t his fault.

But it was Toothless’s plasma shot. Even if he wasn’t in control of himself, that’s what makes it hard to separate Stoick’s… what happened to Stoick, from who really caused it. No matter how much Hiccup’s rational mind knew it was Drago’s doing, in that moment, he could only blame the one who had carried it out. And for Gobber, it must seem even more true, because he doesn’t know Toothless, not like Hiccup does.

He takes a deep breath. “I think we should go.”

Gobber just nods, his face turned towards the fire.

But as Hiccup leads Toothless out, Gobber says in a quiet, watery voice, “He called you the pride o’ Berk, Hiccup. Remember that.”

Hiccup swallows hard against the small, pathetic noise that rises in his throat. He feels like a kid again, helpless and weak, and the harder he tries to push down the feeling, the more it makes itself known. He only makes it a few steps outside the forge at a walk before he breaks into his hobbling attempt at a sprint. Even when he had both his legs, he wasn’t proud of the way he ran, had always been told he looked like some gangly bird when he tried, and his gait isn’t any better now, but the only one around to watch him embarrass himself is Toothless, bounding steadily behind him.

A leftover patch of ice he doesn’t see in the dark falls right in the path of his makeshift foot, and he slips and takes a tumble before Toothless can catch him. Hiccup swears under his breath and tries to get up on his own, but he ends up needing Toothless’s support because all of his limbs feel so shaky now. Maybe it’s the lack of sleep, or maybe his rattled emotional state, or a combination of both.

He knows he should go rest like Astrid told him to, because being the chief of Berk isn’t something that’s going to go away overnight, and he’ll face another day of taking charge and making decisions tomorrow.

Unless he leaves.

It’s a notion that fills him with more apprehension than exhilaration right now, but he knows once he’s up in the clouds on Toothless’s back, he’ll feel free.

Though he wasn’t thinking about a destination while he walked, his feet have led him back to his house. Hiccup comes to a stop on the hill and weighs the options. His bed is close, and he’ll have Toothless with him in case he wakes up with nightmares, if he manages to fall asleep in the first place.

But the rooms in that house are the ones that his dad walked, the ones where they used to say their rushed goodbyes before Stoick went to kill dragons, because for Vikings, it was an occupational hazard. Where his dad finally welcomed Toothless as Hiccup’s protector, and friend, watching over him while he recovered from the fight with the Red Death. Where they shared early breakfasts and late dinners and where Hiccup finally picked up the confidence to share his inventions with his dad as he grew older.

Squinting and blinking away the water in his eyes, Hiccup realizes there’s a lit lamp shining dully yellow through the window in his bedroom upstairs. It takes him a moment to figure out that it’s Valka who must be in there, who is going to fill his dad’s space in the home now. And for some reason, the thought makes something in him recoil. She’s his mother, he loves her and he’s forgiven her for not being in his life before now — but that’s the thing; she hasn’t been here, and he knows she loves dragons, but he doesn’t know much else about her. It’s too soon to move on, to immediately replace the life he had with his dad, and it would be a betrayal if he did.

Hiccup doesn’t know what to do anymore. All he knows is that he can’t stay here tonight. He shouldn’t leave without telling Valka, but he can’t stand the idea of going inside, of seeing all the reminders, the notches in the wood of the doorframe where his dad marked his height every year.

He’s still suited up in his flight gear, ready to go. Even the guilt he feels about leaving is something he can soothe with the knowledge that Berk will be in Astrid’s capable hands tomorrow, if he isn’t back by then.

“Hey, Toothless?” Hiccup rests his arm on the dragon’s broad neck, feels the inquisitive rumble in Toothless’s throat. “What do you say we take a little flight? Maybe we’ll just go to Itchy Armpit and back. Or, maybe, we’ll fly to — to somewhere no one knows, huh, bud? What about that?”

Toothless makes an affirmative noise and Hiccup slides onto his saddle, switches out his regular prosthetic for the one that bolts into one side of the harness and settles his right foot on the other side’s pedal. Connecting to Toothless, guiding his mechanical left tail-fin, is more natural than walking, more natural than breathing. Hiccup flicks it to the right setting for a vertical takeoff and hunches forward to let Toothless do the rest, take a run and a leap and —

“Hiccup!”

Cloudjumper’s head pokes out through the upstairs window of the house, tilted owlishly, and perched on him is Valka, looking equally confused. Toothless has barely gotten off the ground, but lands hesitantly, looking back at Hiccup and waiting for a decision.

“Where are you going?” She doesn’t sound accusatory, only concerned, but even so, Hiccup balks at the idea of explaining himself to her.

“I just need to clear my head,” he says, more defensively than he intended. “I’ll come back.”

“I don’t doubt that, but is there something wrong?”

Yes, he wants to say. Yes, everything is wrong and nothing will ever be right again. He opens his mouth and tries to share that with her, because surely she must feel the same way after losing Stoick, so soon after they were reunited. But he can’t find a way to say it. He’s scared of bringing heartbreak to her eyes, sorrow to a place in her life that had been a void for years, filled with his father’s light for only a day before it became a void once more. Thinking of that makes him hurt on the inside more than he knew he could.

He doesn’t want her to see it. The people he loves, they shouldn’t have to watch him go through this. Nobody else deserves a piece of the sadness that’s burrowed into his chest like a sword, the ache he's kept carefully numb all day that threatens to burst into agony when the blade is pulled free.

“I may not have the most experience with being your mother, and that’s entirely my fault, not yours, but, well, I suppose there’s still instinct to go off of? If there’s anything I can do for you —”

Hiccup interrupts, keeping his voice as steady as he can. “I’ll be back by tomorrow night, Astrid knows what to do while I’m gone, and, I know I can trust you to help her? Just, right now, I have to go.”

There’s sympathy on Valka’s face, visible even in the shadows thrown by his father’s house in the moonlight. “You know, it’s okay to grieve, Hiccup.”

He nods, but his jaw tightens as he clenches his teeth together behind a tightly pressed lips. Grieving is the last thing he wants to do, the last thing he has time for, but what is he flying off to do right now? “Come on, bud,” he says quietly, and Toothless crouches down, springs spontaneously upwards with no running start this time.

“Keep him safe, Toothless!” Valka calls from the window.

Hiccup doesn’t look back, though he knows she’s still standing there on her dragon, watching him go. He flattens himself against Toothless’s broad neck, holding on with every muscle he can use, not wanting to be separated by even an inch. Toothless is the only thing that can ground him, keep him from losing his head up here in the cold air.

His eyes sting, but if he closes them, he’ll have no orientation, nothing to counteract the deafening static rushing in his ears, besides the smoothness of black scales between his hands and the rough ridges between them. It’ll have to be enough. Toothless will be enough. Hiccup ducks his head into his elbow to block out the wind, presses his cheek to the warmth of Toothless’s shoulder. His foot taps the pedal every now and then, changing the angle of the tail fin when they come across drafts where Toothless can glide without needing to flap his wings.

They fly fast until Berk is far behind them, even though Hiccup made no verbal request as to the speed. Toothless just seems to know. And after he judges they’ve finally gone far enough, his aggressive pace slows. He tries to coast along easily, though his prosthetic tail flight isn’t angled right to match his natural one, making him work harder at it. When Hiccup fails to notice the change, Toothless hums inquisitively and twists to look at him.

Hiccup doesn’t lift his head, but flicks the flight into the right setting. He’s too lost in thought to do much else. Memories of his dad keep pushing at his mind — the time when Stoick saved Toothless and told Hiccup he was proud to call him his son, the way he opened up in the following years and became willing to learn about dragons, began to share that love of them in common with Hiccup. Something they could bond over.

And the look that came over his face, when he found Valka, the tender awe and the tremor in his voice as he sang to her. In that moment Hiccup was the happiest he’d ever been in his life, seeing his parents reunited. If he could just go back one day (had it really only been one day?) and recapture it, preserve it, _protect_ it, intercept Drago ahead of time and make sure he never came near his dad, or Toothless, make sure none of it ever happened.

But he can’t. There’s no bringing his dad back. His dad is —

Hiccup has danced around the word, not dared to say it or even think it yet because doing so will make it too real. But it is real. He digs his nails into his own palm and smacks his forehead down against Toothless’s shoulder. That felt real. It’s all real. Stoick is dead.

“My dad is dead,” he whispers to himself, but the wind steals his words away almost before he hears them. It feels like only a ghost of the truth.

He sits up, his head spinning suddenly, and feels for Toothless’s harness to steady himself. The clouds are all a blur, washed faintly blue by the moon and the night, all indistinct in the background of Hiccup’s sight. Even Toothless doesn’t seem quite there. If Hiccup reached out to touch him, he might disappear like a mirage.

“My dad is dead,” he says again. It doesn’t sound like his own voice; it’s older than he feels right now, too flat, devoid of whatever makes him who he is.

He takes a deep breath, and shouts it: “MY DAD IS DEAD.”

And finally it sinks in.

Hiccup makes a low, wounded noise in his throat, something that starts as a whimper and ends somewhere between a sob and a howl. Finally the tears come, sliding hotly down his cheeks, and he chokes on the misery rising in his chest, drowns in it like it’s the sea filling up his lungs. Toothless keeps flying, but he’s tense, worried. Hiccup doesn’t have the strength to reassure him; right now, he can’t even reassure himself.

He screams again, and whatever it is, it’s so unintelligible that even he can’t understand it. He thinks he’s cursing the gods, cursing Drago, cursing everything in the world for taking his dad away from him (but not Toothless, never Toothless, _I know it wasn’t your fault bud_ ), and maybe he’s daring them to strike him down now, maybe he wishes he was dead too so he could just see his dad’s face again.

It isn’t supposed to go like this. Hiccup should have stayed home, should have buried all the hurt and sorrow and left it in its bottle and moved on, ignored it forever. His dad would have wanted him to be strong, to be a leader.

But his mom told him it was okay to grieve. As he sits there on Toothless’s back, his hands holding only loosely to the saddle, he lets himself cry and cry and cry, and wonders deeply for the first time if Valka did this. Even if she was in paradise, in the home of the Bewilderbeast with all those dragons, learning to live among them — did she cry like this, knowing she would likely never see her husband or son again? Was it cruelty or mercy, that she got a last dance with Stoick before he died?

Hiccup blinks slowly and then closes his eyes, taking a deep breath as the last tears trickle down his face. He feels, not for the first time since meeting her, that all along he was more like his mother without ever knowing it. He’ll never ask her, but he knows Valka mourned the way he mourns now, with tears and wailing and turning to her dragons for comfort.

He had his breakdown. Now there’s just that one thing left to do. Hiccup slumps forward and drapes his arms around Toothless’s neck, stretching a hand to scratch under his chin.

“Sorry I worried you, bud. I’ll be okay.” Toothless rumbles in a second-guessing way and Hiccup smiles despite the taste of salt on his lips. “Yeah, I promise. Let’s just keep going. Anywhere you want.”

Weariness has soaked all the way into his bones, with the whirlwind events of the past two full days with no sleep in between, and it finally catches up to him now. Hiccup can barely hold his eyes open. He’s so emotionally spent, so physically fatigued, and things feel more real now but it’s still almost as if he’s seeing through a haze. He moves his palm to spread it flat against Toothless’s forehead and lays there, his chest resting against Toothless’s neck. Their breathing syncs up without a thought, and the deep, steady rhythm of it lulls Hiccup to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

The blue-gray ocean is the first thing Hiccup sees when he wakes, beyond the fold of a leathery black wing around him. As soon as he stirs, rolling the stiffness out of his shoulders, Toothless raises his head, his eyes big and sleepy. They focus in on Hiccup, and Toothless comes alert almost immediately, darting his head in to butt against Hiccup’s cheek, nearly pushing him over.

“Good morning to you too,” Hiccup says, laughing despite the dry hoarseness of his throat. He pretends to fight back, pushing against the immovable mass of Toothless’s broad chest before he lets himself be taken down in the pebbly sand.

They wrestle and roll to a stop, and after a little more nuzzling at Hiccup’s face, Toothless gets off of him. Hiccup leans on Toothless for support while he picks up his left foot to switch his prosthetic to a tool more suited for the unfamiliar terrain. He realizes it’s still in its pedal setting — he must not have woken up at all through the whole process of landing Toothless. He doesn’t recall any of it.

“Wow. Did I really fly you in my sleep?”

Toothless snorts and lifts his chin haughtily, as if to say, _I did all the work_ . Hiccup grins at him. “I can’t believe we managed that!” Toothless lowers his head in concession to the _we_ , and Hiccup rubs his forehead vigorously between his ears. “Wait ’til we get back to Berk and brag to the whole village about it. I bet my dad won’t even —”

Hiccup stops. His dad won’t even anything. His dad isn’t going to be there when they get back.

Toothless nudges his hand and gives it a small lick, asking for more petting and failing to notice Hiccup’s mistake until a moment has passed with no response. His expression changes to one more serious, head tilted in concern.

“Right.” Hiccup clears his throat and looks out to sea again, pushing down the cavernous dread in his chest. “So, uh, where’d you bring me, bud? How far from home are we?”

Toothless just looks at him, blinks once.

“You have no idea, then.” He scratches under Toothless’s chin until he receives a satisfied purr for his efforts. “Guess we’ll find out for ourselves, huh?”

The ocean, though its waters must be the same as those that lap at the shores of Berk, seems somehow different from all the times Hiccup has seen it from the air. It has a lighter tint to its blue, a less foamy white to the breaking of its waves. Behind him, beyond the sloped stone wall that he and Toothless slept against, dark green pines line the bank, the border of a forest with its treetops wreathed in thin mist. A brown, snow-capped mountain stands as the backdrop to it all, and that, naturally, is what catches Hiccup’s eye.

They reach the end of the beach, where Toothless gives him a helpful boost over the rock wall before leaping up behind him. There’s a grassy path to follow through the trees, almost purposefully cleared, and Hiccup wonders if there are people living nearby and if they might be friendly.

He doesn’t really feel hungry, but he realizes he probably needs to eat; vaguely, he recalls a rushed dinner the previous day, scarfed down too quickly because he couldn’t stand to sit still and wanted to get back to work on making the village livable after the attack. It might be nice to take advantage of some good old hospitality and get a real meal, assuming the sight of Toothless doesn’t scare their hypothetical hosts to death.

Then again, Hiccup is filthy. He can feel the dirt caked under his fingernails, the salt residue of tears on his face, the dusting of sand clinging to his clothes. No doubt his hair is a sleep-matted mess, and he _definitely_ smells like dragon, which can be pretty off-putting to even the most polite locals. Vikings don’t bathe frequently, but Hiccup prides himself on taking better hygienic care than most. He wouldn’t want to make a first impression on anyone given the state he’s in.

Thankfully, they don’t encounter a single person on their walk through the woods. Toothless strays from his side but stays close to the path, investigating new scents everywhere, occasionally stopping to mark trees (and for that, Hiccup pities any of this land’s inhabitants who might come along behind them).

Eventually, the pines give way to birches and more diverse species, and close in on the path so that Hiccup has to navigate fallen logs and the twisting plants of the forest floor. Toothless comes to him and offers a ride, which Hiccup accepts gratefully. It’s easier to take in the scenery around him from Toothless’s back, and it’s faster than walking. Neither of them know their way, but Hiccup trusts Toothless’s intuition to guide them safely out of the trees. If all else fails, they can always jump to the top of a tree to get their bearings, or take off and fly the rest of the way from there.

Just as he’s starting to think that maybe there aren’t any dragons around here, something shoots by his face, startling Toothless into a hiss. Hiccup pats his neck to calm him and follows his gaze to find out where the creature went. For a strange moment, he can’t see anything, even though he’s staring right at the spot that has Toothless’s full attention. Then, he looks harder, and sees a shape, the bump of a brown head, in between thick tree roots.

With slow, controlled movements, so as not to frighten the dragon, Hiccup slides off of Toothless and unhooks Inferno from his belt, extending the sword, presenting it lengthwise, and thumbing the lighter in the hilt. As soon as the blade ignites, the tiny dragon makes a high-pitched shriek. It flees up the tree, out onto a high branch, and glides away over Hiccup’s head, giving him a brief glimpse of its pale yellow underbelly. He sees it touch down several yards away, then it vanishes.

Evidently, though, Toothless catches a glimpse of its scurrying. He crouches down and wiggles his haunches, wings tucked in close to his sides.

“Toothless,” Hiccup warns, but Toothless completely ignores his tone and gives chase before Hiccup can stop him.

Hiccup watches the red prosthetic tail fin disappear over the next ridge and sighs before he follows. Toothless will give up at some point; he won’t leave Hiccup on his own for very long. He’s just a little too big to play tag in the forest, anyways, and crashes clumsily through the foliage, making all kinds of noise.

It’s a shame that the little dragon will probably get away easily. Hiccup wishes he hadn’t scared it off. He wants to know what it is, why it reacted with such fear to his fire, how it disguised itself so well. The camouflage ability reminds him of a Changewing, but the dragon was much too small, even for a hatchling, and besides, it didn’t look like one.

He finds Toothless poised beside a puddle that’s formed in a shallow basin, gazing into it with rapt interest. Hiccup joins him and peers in, but he can’t see anything in the water.

“Come on, bud. It’s kinda mean to corner it.” Hiccup tugs on Toothless’s harness, and reluctantly Toothless lets himself be led away. “Maybe we’ll come across some other dragons you can play with, how’s that sound?”

A rumble of thunder draws their attention to the sky, where the clouds have started to darken. “If it doesn’t rain on us first,” Hiccup says, frowning. “Let’s find some shelter, just in case.”

Soon, they come to a break in the trees, where a wide gully separates the pines from their brethren on the other side. Hiccup and Toothless take to the air, with Hiccup setting their course for the mountain. It’s not far, and there are bound to be caves that they can call home while they wait out the storm. The clouds are growing thicker and angrier, heavy with the threat of a storm, but Hiccup feels confident that they’ll make it to safety before the worst hits.

That is, until Toothless strays off course, a growl rumbling in his chest as he ducks his head upside down to look behind him. Hiccup turns and looks, too, but sees nothing. “What is it, bud?”

Toothless veers right, then left, then spirals his whole body. If Hiccup were the same inexperienced rider he’d been at 15, he would have slid clear off the dragon’s back, but he knows now to press himself flat and hold on tight. In the midst of the sky whirling all around him, he squints in search of a spot to make an emergency landing on the mountainside.

“Calm down, bud,” he calls, a little more plea than order, and Toothless responds by leveling out his flight path, though he’s clearly not happy about it. When Hiccup goes to switch the pedal, the mechanism encounters an unusual resistance somewhere along the wire connection behind him. Without it working, their descent is going to be a rough one. “Okay, change in plan.”

He leans back, and Toothless matches his body language, curving upwards and relying on the strength of his wings to climb higher. At an altitude and distance where Hiccup is sure they won’t crash into anything, he detaches himself from the harness, braces his hands against Toothless’s sides, and turns his whole body to sit backwards in the saddle.

“Slow and steady, okay? No more sharp turns or dives, you’ll throw me off like this.”

Toothless stays tensed, uncomfortable, but he understands. Hiccup leans far forward and follows the wire apparatus with one finger. He has to roll onto his stomach, wrapping one arm around the bulk of Toothless’s tail, in order to stretch his hand out and check the prosthetic.

Where he expects to feel fabric, he instead feels scales. They move beneath his palm, and Toothless snorts in irritation. Before Hiccup can get a hold of the tiny dragon that’s made itself Toothless’s passenger, it scurries up the length of his arm, down his back, and towards Toothless’s head.

“It’s not gonna hurt you, it’s just —” Hiccup calls in warning, but he can feel Toothless’s unease, the telltale ripple in his muscles that threatens a spinning fit to get the nuisance off of him. “Easy, Toothless!”

Thankfully, Toothless listens long enough for Hiccup to crawl back into position and lock his leg into the pedal again, but as soon as he’s settled, Toothless breaks from the steady glide he had maintained. He flies in a tight circle, gaining speed each time, and no amount of soothing will get him to stop. The other dragon’s presence on his back is really freaking him out.

It’s difficult with Toothless circling so dizzyingly fast, but Hiccup stretches his hands out in search of the camouflaged creature. It’s matched its scales to Toothless’s so that they’re indistinguishable from one another, but Hiccup feels a lump behind Toothless’s ear where there shouldn’t be one, and that’s how he knows. He wraps his hand around it, firmly so it can’t squirm out of his grasp, and tugs it free.

Gripping the saddle tightly with his other hand, Hiccup flicks the pedal into the opposite setting from the one that lets Toothless sustain this flight pattern, and they drop out of the sky. The small dragon in Hiccup’s hand wiggles around in panic. Toothless recovers quickly, and Hiccup cooperates with him again, keeping the artificial tail flight properly aligned with his natural one. A little hurt in the feelings, Toothless gives Hiccup a baleful, pouting look over his shoulder.

“Hey, I had to stop your tantrum somehow,” Hiccup says defensively. “I’ll make it up to you, okay? A feast of herring when we get back to Berk. Your favorite.”

Toothless looks like he’s going to hold his sulk, but then a fat raindrop splatters directly on his nose. He sneezes violently. Hiccup laughs, and a light of amusement returns to Toothless’s eyes. Just to be obstinate, he looks straight ahead and pretends it’s not happening, but Hiccup knows.

Before he can tease any further, the little dragon scrabbles against his chest, reminding Hiccup of its presence. Hiccup leaves it to Toothless to get them back in the direction of that cave they checked out from the air, and turns his attention to their troublesome passenger. He holds it up, away from his chest so it won’t camouflage to match his flight suit, and for an instant he sees its eyes blink, bright yellow, and a wave of colors runs across its body, like it’s confused about what to do.

Then it adopts a pale cream with pink undertones, matching his hand, and closes its eyes to hide them. Hiccup watches the transformation in wonder. Gently, he cradles it on its back and pulls one of its wings away from its side, counting it at four inches, which gives it a wingspan of only eight. Its whole body isn’t much more than twice that length. With only a few darker stripes for markings, it’s almost completely undecorated, lacking dorsal spines or ridges. Like a plain, winged lizard more than anything.

It’s still scared of him, almost trembling, but Hiccup has never let that deter him. “It’s okay,” he says softly. Some dragons may not fully comprehend human words, but he knows they’re all intelligent enough to understand tone. “It’s okay, I won’t hurt you. I’m a friend, okay? You can trust me.”

Toothless alights on the cave floor just as the first smattering of raindrops begins to dot the sandy ground outside. Hiccup dismounts and sets the little dragon down. Immediately, it changes to a pebble-gray color and scurries away to hide behind a large rock. Hiccup takes a seat near it, being careful not to cage it in.

Feeling a little left out, Toothless noisily flops down next to him and pushes his head into Hiccup’s lap, making a couple of attention-seeking warbles. Hiccup smiles, obligingly pets behind Toothless’s nubs, and rubs a thumb down the ridges on his forehead. As Hiccup watches, Toothless’s eyelids start to slip lower, and though he rouses several times and tries to stay awake, he eventually succumbs to the catnap and lies there with his breath gusting over Hiccup’s knee, not quite snoring.

Hiccup gets an idea and lets his own chin drop to his chest, closing his eyes. Thunder booms distantly, heralding a worse storm if it comes this way, but for now the rain is almost soothing, heavy but calm. He could actually fall asleep here.

He opens one eye just a crack and finds an extra stone-colored lump on top of the rock beside him. Only its breathing distinguishes it from the small boulder. The little dragon shrinks back almost out of sight when it notices he’s spotted it, so he shuts his eyes again and waits. Not long after that, he hears it scuttle across the cave floor, and when he peeks again, it’s heading for the cave entrance.

Instead of zipping away out of sight like he expects it to, it stands right there in front of the cave. It’s turned itself to the brownish tan of the cliff face outside, but where the raindrops meet its skin, color blooms. Vivid green, bright orange, all the hues of the rainbow appear on the little dragon in changing splatters. It seems to enjoy the rain, scampering around in it in various, almost rhythmic patterns.

“Toothless,” Hiccup whispers, shaking Toothless’s head to rouse him. “Toothless, _look_.”

The little dragon continues dancing and shifting colors in the rain. Toothless seems mildly alarmed, laying his ears back and narrowing his eyes. Hiccup strokes Toothless’s forehead to reassure him everything’s okay, but the smaller dragon holds their joint attention.

Hiccup has a million curiosities about it, but the one thing he’s certain of is a name for the new species: Iriscoat. He shakes his head in awe and gets up to strip off his exterior armor, down to his boots. Toothless huffs grumpily and lays his head down on his front feet, watching through half-closed eyes. Hiccup approaches the cave entrance slowly, and the Iriscoat stops all movement to stare at him warily. He takes another step forward, and the Iriscoat vanishes from sight.

It doesn’t make any sense. There’s no way it’s fast enough to have flown away without him seeing it, so it must be here. Hiccup is mystified, until he remembers how intently Toothless had looked into that puddle in the forest, the one where Hiccup hadn’t seen anything. A new theory forms in his mind. It seems almost as if, when wet, the little dragon can make itself completely colorless, inside and out, creating the illusion of transparency.

The only thing to do is proceed with his original plan. He steps out of the cave, stands still, and lets the rain gradually soak him, arms spread to embrace it. He imagines Toothless thinks he’s lost his mind, especially when he starts dancing, mimicking the Iriscoat’s steps to the best of his ability.

For once, he doesn’t feel uncomfortable in his own skin, doing something like this. Sure, Hiccup can throw a sword around, and he’s actually put on a fair bit of muscle mass in the past few years, but there’s a lingering part of him that’s still an awkward boy with two left feet and likes to come out to embarrass him when he tries to do anything gracefully (anything that isn’t flying Toothless, maybe). He’s able to ignore it this time, closes his eyes and breathes in the moisture of the air and lets the singing of the breeze and the rhythm of the rain be his guides.

When he finally slows to a stop, Hiccup takes a moment to look out over the gorge, the cliffs of the mountains rising high around him, and the majesty of it all makes him feel alone but not lonely for the first time since his dad died. He’s just a small part of all of it, insignificant on his own, but together with the rest, he’s something bigger than himself.

And besides, he’ll never truly be alone. He’ll always have Toothless.

Letting out a slow breath, Hiccup lets his arms fall to his sides and looks down to see if the Iriscoat decided to stay. Slowly, it reappears, invisibility falling away like a glass skin being shed. The rain is picking up now, and each touch of it causes a brief burst of color on the Iriscoat’s back. Hiccup blinks it out of his eyes, crouches down, and holds out one hand. The Iriscoat doesn’t move to meet him, but it doesn’t shy away, either. Hiccup waits until the rain falls in such heavy sheets that he can barely see through all the gray and wet of it, and retreats into the cave in defeat.

Toothless comes to stand next to Hiccup at the entrance, where Hiccup is dripping all over the dusty stone floor, staring out into the rain for any sign of the little dragon. When there’s still nothing, Toothless snakes between Hiccup and the entrance, nudging him backwards into the cave. Hiccup finally notices the cold, and his drenched clothes don’t help matters. Still, when Toothless moves to make a fire, Hiccup stops him.

“I don’t want to scare it away,” he says, even as he stands there, shivering.

Toothless’s tail sweeps across the ground, knocking into Hiccup’s ankle in reprimand. Hiccup looks down at him, offended, but Toothless meets his eyes with equal annoyance. Hiccup holds the glare for as long as he can, then finally gives up. He knows Toothless is just trying to take care of him.

Before Hiccup can smooth over the silent argument, though, Toothless heads for the entrance.

“Bud, wait —”

Toothless stops there, stretching his neck out and moving his head slowly from one side to the other. Hugging himself, Hiccup steps closer to see what he’s looking for. Toothless spots the wet footprints seconds before Hiccup does, and leans forward with his jaw open.

Lurching forward to stop him, Hiccup yells, “Toothless!”

Toothless turns around with his jaw still open, something held delicately between his gums. His teeth aren’t out. Hiccup breathes a sigh of relief. Toothless rolls his eyes and spits the Iriscoat out at Hiccup’s feet.

Giving him no time to prepare, it scrambles up his good leg and climbs all the way to his shoulders. Hiccup holds very still, barely daring to look at it for fear that the skittish dragon will flee. Keeping his eyes on Toothless instead, he mouths, “Thank you.”

With a huff, Toothless turns around and ventures deeper into the cave, somewhat masked by the murk but not quite beyond sight. After some scraping and scuffling noises, he reemerges with a decent pile of kindling: twigs, leaves, and other dry scraps the wind must have blown in at some point. He settles down on folded legs beside it and lights it with a gentle puff of fire, cautiously watchful of the Iriscoat in a way that lacks his earlier antagonism.

Even as the Iriscoat digs its claws into Hiccup’s shoulder and neck, Hiccup can’t help but smile. Toothless never fails to amaze him.

Very slowly, he lifts one hand up to the Iriscoat, letting it smell him and relax before he touches its narrow snout. It stays put under the gentle petting. Securing and moving it very gently in two hands, Hiccup is able to detach it from his skin and hold it in his arms. Bright yellow eyes blink up at him once. It makes no move to camouflage itself, instead assuming a coat of many colors, shifting in a slow wave-like pattern down the length of its body.

There’s nothing that compares to gaining the trust of a dragon, big or small. Hiccup still remembers the first time he made real, true contact with Toothless — the way his heart felt like it had stopped beating as he stood there with his palm outstretched, and the way it fluttered to life as rapidly as a hummingbird’s wings when Toothless’s scaly forehead pressed into his hand.

In that moment, everything became different, became new. Toothless changed the whole world for him.

It’s not the same with any other dragon, it never will be, but it’s rewarding nonetheless. Gratifying warmth spreads through Hiccup’s chest as the Iriscoat nuzzles against him and begins purring quietly. Now if only he could feel that warmth in his numb extremities. A weird itch tickles at the back of his nose, which definitely isn’t a special sensation he associates with taming dragons.

“A-ah —” The Iriscoat tenses and twists in his grasp, making a flying leap as he bends forward with the force of his sneeze. “AH-choo!”

When he recovers, rubbing his red nose with the back of his damp sleeve, he finds the Iriscoat perched on Toothless’s head, both of them staring at him with wide, spooked eyes. He laughs, but then he can hear the stuffiness creeping into his own voice.

“Oh no,” Hiccup mumbles, sitting down on the side of the fire opposite from the dragons. His nose makes a gross noise when he sniffs hard. “Ick.”

With a sigh, he pulls his soaked clothes off and spreads them out on the ground to dry, exchanging them for his outer layer of leather and armor instead. It’s not as warm without the thermal underclothes, but it’ll have to do. In hindsight, he might have fared better in the rain with the armor to protect the layer underneath. Hiccup detaches his prosthetic leg, too, and sets it by the fire; he doesn’t want it to stay wet and rust. Without it, he still feels a little vulnerable, a shadow of the total weakness and lack of balance when he was first recovering from losing the limb.

Toothless stands and shakes his head vigorously, but the stubborn Iriscoat clings on. Huffing out a breath, Toothless permits it to keep its spot on the back of his neck while he circles around the fire and resituates himself, the bulk of his body now shielding Hiccup from the cold, damp air coming through the cave entrance.

The Iriscoat sniffs at the back of Hiccup’s head, stirring the small braids left there by Astrid. Hiccup turns and runs a finger along its snout again, scratching briefly under its chin. It seems to enjoy that as much as most other dragons do. Even so, it looks to Hiccup and then away, back and forth, like it’s come to a dilemma.

“Ah,” Hiccup says, turning himself around to look at what keeps pulling the Iriscoat’s attention away. It’s still raining outside, but lighter now. The little dragon probably wants to get back to its home in the forest before it loses reliable camouflage. “You’ve gotta go, huh?”

A sad note rings in the Iriscoat’s small chirr. Hiccup touches the sinewy junction between one wing and its back, extending it outwards, and the Iriscoat seems to understand his acceptance, stretching its other wing on its own.

“It was good meeting you,” he tells it, bringing his hand back to his lap, leaving it free to fly. “You’re really something special. Take care of yourself out there.”

The Iriscoat shakes its haunches once before it takes off, using Toothless’s back as a springboard. In the rain, it vanishes. Toothless swivels his head to watch, but the other dragon is long gone. Smiling, Hiccup leans back against Toothless’s broad chest.

“Just the two of us again, bud.”

Toothless blows through his nostrils as if to say, _Good riddance._

“You don’t mean that. You like finding new dragons as much as I do.”

Sandwiched between the fire and Toothless, Hiccup finally stops shivering. He draws in a deep, slow breath and lets it out, letting his eyelids fall halfway shut. Apparently the previous night’s rest still hasn’t fully caught up with him, though today hasn’t been nearly as emotionally or physically taxing as the past few days. Encountering the Iriscoat helped take his mind off of things, at least for a little while.

“We’ll leave when the rain stops. Clothes should be dry by then.”

Hiccup falls prey to the thought that he might let his eyes rest without falling asleep. When he opens them again, it’s almost sunset, and the rain seems to have ended a while ago, judging by the dryness of the ground outside. Toothless is still dozing beside him, his warm breath ghosting against Hiccup’s fingers where his hand rests on Toothless’s snout. The dragon’s stomach rumbles loudly in his sleep, reminding Hiccup of his own hunger.

It would be tempting to stay here, but he told Astrid he’d only be gone for a day.

Gently, Hiccup shakes Toothless’s shoulder to wake him. “Come on, bud. Time to head back. We can, uh, grab a bite to eat on the way, all right? Catch some fish for you.”

At the mention of food, Toothless blinks his eyes all the way open and jumps to his feet, getting his forehead under Hiccup to get him up when Hiccup isn’t fast enough to stand on his own. Hiccup laughs and hops over to grab his prosthetic, the metal warm but not hot now that the fire has died out. He reattaches it, goes about pulling on his layers of clothes, and then he’s ready to take to the sky. Toothless even gives an eager little wiggle of his hindquarters as Hiccup climbs on his back. The second Hiccup’s foot clicks into the harness pedal, Toothless launches himself out of the mouth of the cave.

They circle back over the beach and touch down so Hiccup can stop to fish. He gives it all to Toothless — the dragon will use more energy flying than Hiccup will riding, anyways, and Hiccup can wait until they make it home before he worries about his own meal. As always, Toothless offers him some regurgitated bits, which Hiccup politely declines.

Once Toothless has eaten his fill, they take off into the twilight, with the sun’s last low flames dying behind the horizon and the first stars beginning to twinkle in the purpling dusk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In honor of the new trailer. I'm so so excited for HTTYD 3, you have no idea.


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